Photograph by David Bowman.
First Avenue
There are more than 425 silver stars—and one gold one—on First Avenue’s legendary façade. Getting one might be the most prestigious public honor an artist can receive in Minneapolis. (The most recent honoree? Jenny Lewis, who posted “jeez @firstavenue thank u ★😭” on Twitter after her brand-new star appeared in March.)
The club doled out its first stars in 1984, right after Purple Rain. Then, it painted over them during the grungy ’90s, updated the pantheon in 2000, and revised the list again in 2010 with the club’s last big paint job. The next reboot is scheduled for 2020, which will mark the old bus depot’s 50th anniversary as a venue on the corner of First Avenue and 7th Street.
The criteria for getting your cosmic recognition is the subject of intense local rumor and myth. We treated our investigation like the Mueller Report, interviewing multiple insiders at the club. Nobody would go on the record. (They have their reasons: Musicians and their fans can be insane about this stuff.)
Unofficially, then, the star chamber follows two known precepts 1) You have to sell out the Mainroom or otherwise demonstrate a major impact on First Ave. 2) You must show exceptional loyalty to the club.
We talked to some musicians about what their star means to them—and to one poor guy whose star faded.
Babes in Toyland
Babes in Toyland
When Lori Barbero was winning cash disco competitions in the club’s Uncle Sam’s days, she had no clue she’d later join the firmament with riot grrrls Babes in Toyland. She calls it her Oz, a heightened version of home: “And yeah, some of us had to go through fields of poppies to get there.”
Har Mar Superstar
Har Mar Superstar
Sean Tillmann has been playing First Ave. since he was a precocious teen. But it took him a couple of decades to get Har Mar Superstar-ed. “I never felt like I deserved one,” he says, “but I was psyched when I did.” He was so elated when he saw his star during Har Mar Superstar Day in 2013, he jumped on Mayor R.T. Rybak for a piggyback ride down 7th Street.
Peaches
Peaches
After years of ribbing stage manager Conrad Sverkerson about getting a star, Peaches sold out the Mainroom in 2004. “And I wasn’t joking anymore,” the electroclash icon says. It wasn’t until 2016 that her buddy DJ Shannon Blowtorch—who had been secretly lobbying on her behalf—pointed up and said, “Bitch, look, it’s your star.”
El Vez
El Vez
El Vez (the self-proclaimed “Mexican Elvis”) claims he’s never had a bad show at First Ave.—a track record he attributes to the club’s stage crew.
“The fact that my name has been above that door, painted on the wall thrills me to no end,” El Vez says.
The Hold Steady
The Hold Steady
Craig Finn of Lifter Puller/The Hold Steady is in the ultra-exclusive two-star club. He doesn’t know who else shares that status. “Dave Grohl?” he guesses (correctly). That said, Finn never misses the chance to “Well, actually . . .” anybody who congratulates him on just one of his two stars.
Prince
Prince
The Revolution’s Bobby Z thinks it’s comical how many venues boast a “Prince was here” plaque nowadays. But a star on the wall of his favorite club always meant something to the Purple Yoda.
“I took [Prince] in there for the first time,” Bobby Z recalls, “and with his stage sense, he instantly realized this was going to be his mecca.”
Tina and the B-Sides
Tina and the B-Sides
Tina Schlieske of Tina and the B-Sides nearly cried when she first saw her star. The consummate bar-rockers went from opening for Soul Asylum at the Entry in ’84 to selling out the Mainroom in ’94. “Now we have a star on the same building as Prince???” she marvels.
Mark Mallman
Mark Mallman
After seeing Sonic Youth at the club in 1992, Mark Mallman says, “First Ave. has always been the epicenter of cool.” Years later, he was driving his van when he first glimpsed his own star, high up on the smoke stack. His response was utter disbelief: “Is there another Mark Mallman?”
Bryan Gerrard
Bryan Gerrard
About a shooting star that got away: Former VIP-room DJ Bryan Gerrard had a star next to Tina Turner’s. He’s grateful for the 10 years he stayed on the wall—a part of Minnesota’s own Walk of Fame. “Cemented into culture. Or at least that’s what it felt like,” he says.
Photographer David Bowman shot the club on a snow emergency day in March, when no cars blocked the view. He then stitched 60 individual images—from both 7th Street and First Avenue—into a single, flattened composition.
